Chapter 12 For Display Purposes Only

Melanie Prescott did not get into too much trouble when she was returned to the fort. Lord Cornwallis talked with her and assured the girl that she was a guest there—for her own protection. He declared that he felt it his duty to take care of her since he had known and respected her father, and her family was dead now. The general also told her he felt obligated to shelter her since the King now possessed her homestead. Cornwallis reminded her that the group of rebel extremists that killed her family were still out there hiding and knew that she was alive, and they lived in fear of her and what she might know of them.

"Yes!", Cornwallis asserted. "You're much safer here at the fort!"

She could not fight the Lord General's charm and persuasion, and decided that just for his sake, she would try to stomach living a guarded life at the fort.

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A few days after her second escape attempt, Melanie was made to accompany Major Bordon and a group of dragoons out of the fort. The details of this trip out were not disclosed to her. She was bound at the wrists despite her protests.

When she asked why she was tied, Alex Bordon merely replied, "For your own safety...and to assure that you don't pull another damn fool stunt like the other day and end up getting into trouble with the rebels!"

They left the fort with a small band of infantry. The soldiers traveled off the main road via a little used cow path in the woods. At the end of the day, they made a camp for the night beside a small creek.

Still bound, Melanie wandered from the main campfire to a smaller one where the dragoons' bedrolls were. Bordon was set up in a modest tent close to the main fire bowl.

On her way as she strolled between the campfires, she was accosted by three infantry privates.

"My, aren't you a pretty one," one man teased in his cockney accent.

Melanie bit her lip and said nothing, walking on.

"Oh, look," one of them jeered, "The Yankee tart is too good to talk to us!"

She drew in a small breath and ignored them, starting to pick up her walking pace. She wanted to get to the Dragoon section quickly. At least she knew some of those men.

"Maybe she only likes men with horses!"

"Come here, sweetie! I'll give you a proper horse to ride!"

Melanie, astonished at the lewd remark, looked back at the voice. When she turned back forward to move away, she ran into one of the other soldiers. She found that she was now surrounded by the three.

"Let me by," she pleaded quietly, her voice betraying her fright.

One of the redcoats grabbed at her skirt.

"Stop it!," she exclaimed, pulling away from him.

"Ah, sassy little bird, aren't you?"

All three of the men began grabbing at her sleeves and skirt. She quickly brought up her bound hands and hit one of them upside the head.

That man, angered at her now, grabbed her hair. "Colonial slut!" he yelled, jerking her head.

The girl struggled to get away. Her head and neck hurt from being jerked about and she could feel the other two men's hands fumbling with her skirt and touching her legs.

"Major Bordon," she called out without thinking, "Help me!"

Alexander Bordon was in his tent jotting notes in his field diary when he heard the frantic cries. He looked up from his writing, then stood up. Mildly irritated and a little worried, he stomped out of his tent in the direction of the scream, knowing it was Miss Prescott's voice.

In the dim firelight, he could make out a woman's figure surrounded by some infantrymen. He stormed over to the group in aggravation.

"Get your hands off of her," he ordered. The three men still hasseling her looked up toward the deep voice. They dropped her immediately and stood at attention.

Almost as quickly, Melanie jumped behind the Major for protection. She listened to his words to the men, feeling safe as she hid behind his tall and formidable figure.

By now, a few other dragoons had heard the shouts of Miss Prescott, then their commander, and hurried over to the bunch. Bordon spotted the commander of the infantry moving toward them, having also heard the commotion.

"Captain," snapped Bordon, "Please do a better job of containing your men. They became fresh with Miss Prescott here!"

"Yes sir," the officer answered, looking confused at his three soldiers and obviously embarrassed.

Bordon continued on in a stern voice. "This lady is not to be harassed. Do you understand, Captain?"

"Yes sir," he nodded.

With that, Bordon turned around to Melanie, who was still hiding behind him. She smiled graciously up at him, opening her mouth to thank him.

Instead of returning the cordiality, the officer scowled down at her and took her firmly by the arm. Leading her away from the bunch, he smirked, "Miss Prescott, you have a talent for getting into trouble."

Melanie was puzzled at the major as he pulled her away from the group. She tried to jerk her arm out of his hand, but his grip was too strong.

"But they were lewd to me and made advances," she protested.

Bordon continued to drag her along, annoyed at her. "Did you entice them?"

"Of course not!" She was shocked that he thought she'd even do such a thing.

"Honestly," Bordon sighed as he neared his tent, "you can't be left alone for one moment without trying to run or getting into some kind of trouble!"

Melanie said nothing back to his remark, too confused and astonished at his actions. The girl had wanted to thank him for helping her, but was too scared to say it, discerning his irritation at her.

"Private Higgins," Bordon called.

The young cavalry private was soon at his commander's side. "Sir?"

"Gather Miss Prescott's bedroll and bring it here to my tent!"

"Aye, sir," the young soldier complied and quickly disappeared.

"What!" Melanie exclaimed. "I can't sleep in there with you!"

"Why not?" Bordon asked, aggravation smeared across his face.

"Because...well...because...it's not proper," stammered the girl.

"I know it's not," he barked. "But I can't trust you and I can't trust some of these men!"

"And how do I know I can trust you," she shot back, forgetting that she was addressing an officer.

"I'm in no mood to argue about this, Miss," he replied with an irritated hiss.

"But, people will talk," she protested.

The major, already tired from the day's ride, lost his patience.

"Miss," he snarled, "Who's hands are bound and who's are not?" He held up his freed hands in front of her face, as if flaunting the fact that he was not the one who was bound. "You have no choice in this matter."

About this time, the private returned and handed the girl's bedroll to Major Bordon. He tossed it into the tent then took Melanie's arm again.

She resisted and pulled back. Narrowing her eyes at him, she declared defiantly, "I am NOT sleeping alone in that tent with you!"

Alex became angry. He gripped her upper arm firmly, making her wince. He loomed menacingly over her and looked down at her condescendingly.

"Miss Prescott," he growled with gritted teeth, "need I remind you who is in charge here?"

Afraid but still standing her ground, she protested, trying to disguise the fright in her voice. "I'm not one of your soldiers!"

"I am the commanding officer of this mission and you will do as I say," Bordon threatened.

A frightened Melanie kept silent and let the officer lead her inside. Once there, she kept quiet as she watched the man lay her bedroll out across the modest tent from his. Major Bordon could see her apprehension. The officer felt like this was the only way that he could keep an eye on her and protect her, something the men seemed to have a hard time doing. Besides, she wouldn't attempt an escape from the ranking officer's tent.

He spoke up, wishing to ease her fears. "Miss Prescott, I assure you that you've nothing to worry about," he explained. "If I try anything improper, which officer's decorum prevents me from doing, then you may call Lieutenant Scott and he will come to your aid. But I can honestly say that I am too tired to try anything."

Melanie did not answer Bordon. She stepped quietly to where her bedroll lay. As she knelt down on her bed, the Major held her arm and steadied her so that she wouldn't fall. The girl looked up at the man.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," Bordon stated. "Don't try anything foolish. I'll post guards around the tent."

Relenting, Melanie did not argue with his warning. She sighed in resignation as she watched him leave. The girl could hear Major Bordon's voice outside of the tent.

Looking across the tent at his bedroll, she studied the few things he had brought with him. A haversack lay at the foot of the bedroll, as did his grooming kit. She would have loved to scrounge through the bag to see if he had any books or maps. She knew she could tell a little more about him by doing this—but she didn't dare.

Feeling tired, she decided to lay down. This was the first time she'd ever slept while bound. As she maneuvered her tied hands to push the covers back, she tucked herself under the blankets, then closed her eyes.

After a few moments, she opened her eyes again, unable to fall asleep. She moved in the blankets on to her side facing the center of the tent. Melanie moved her bound wrists up to the pillow and laid her head upon her hands. She watched the shadows and shapes dance across the side of the tent from the campfire. Hearing footsteps coming toward the tent, she squeezed her eyes shut and prayed that Bordon would not hurt her.

Alex was quiet as he entered the tent, adding to the stillness that had settled over the camp. He looked over at the sleeping girl and moved about the tent silently.

After a moment, Melanie opened her eyes, but lay still. They had adjusted to the darkness, and in the dim campfire light that filtered through the canvas, she watched Major Bordon as he readied for bed. She looked at him as he removed his boots, socks, jacket, and waistcoat. Her eyes followed his strong fingers as they undid the stock at his throat and opened the collar of his shirt.

Still watching his silhouette, she stared at him secretly as he reached behind his head to undo his braid. The girl marveled at his long, red hair, as he ran his fingers through the waves. Smiling to herself, she thought he looked more like a common man now instead of an aloof officer as his long hair settled about his shoulders and ruffle of his collar. She clamped her eyes shut, feigning sleep, as the Major crawled into his bedding.

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Three hours later, Miss Prescott woke up from her sleep. She had never slept on the ground before, only in a bed, so she wasn't comfortable. The dying embers of the campfire outside the tent cast a pale glow through the canvas. Melanie rolled on to her side again, facing the center of the tent. She could see Major Bordon across from her, sound asleep, snoring very lightly.

Melanie propped herself up on her elbow carefully with hands still bound and looked over at the sleeping officer. He looked so peaceful, much different from the intensity that he wore on his face most days. His red hair fell wildly about, spilled over the pillow, blanket, and his shoulder.

As Melanie gazed at him, her mind wandered. She thought he was handsome, the same as she felt about Colonels Tarleton and Tavington. Often, she had wondered about the officers. Tavington and Bordon were so duty driven, while Tarleton, she'd noticed, liked to let down and have fun.

In the fort, she'd seen all kinds of women flocking to all three of the men. But she'd never seen a wife or children with any of them. She assumed they were all bachelors. Melanie smiled to herself, thinking that all three of the officers must be resistant to the charms of women.

Miss Prescott continued to study Major Bordon's form, letting her thoughts run wild as she did. She sighed as she thought of him: his light read hair, his strong arms, his blue eyes, the deep richness of his voice, how his height towered over her. To her, he was very handsome.

Sensing a flush and heat coming over her skin, she could feel her heart beating fast within her chest. She held her breath a moment as she continued to gaze at Alex Bordon.

She could not seem to stop looking at the sleeping officer. Suddenly, she realized that she was attracted to him. Melanie tried to deny the thought, thinking it ridiculous. He hadn't noticed her and he had his pick of dozens of women at the fort.

Melanie's fiancé Peter had been dead over a year now. Alexander Bordon was the first man she'd taken a second look at since.

How could she like him? He treated her firmly, like he would a captive. Besides, as duty oriented as he was, he'd never get involved with a Colonial—even one that was a pacifist.

She sighed and closed her eyes. Opening them, she looked longingly at the peaceful soldier. She had the sudden urge to kiss the man's cheek gently as he slept.

Miss Prescott thought her musings were nonsense. She cringed with futility and helplessness. Then, she rolled over, facing the tent side again, so that she wouldn't have to look at the man again. She pulled the covers up over her head and fell asleep.

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The next day, late morning, Miss Prescott was seated on Bordon's steed behind him, hands still bound. The Major, Melanie, and two other dragoons hesitated at the edge of the forest. Bordon pulled out his long glass and focused on a large house a quarter of a mile away.

"Let's go," he ordered, after a moment.

Melanie held on to Bordon, fistfuls of his wool jacket bunched up in her hands. She looked to the side as they rode out of the forest toward the house. One of the dragoons with them was now carrying high a white flag as he rode. The girl wondered what they were doing.

The group rode up to the house and were stopped by sentries of the Colonial army. Melanie looked about at all the blue uniforms. She didn't know whether to feel safe or afraid, sitting on a horse in the midst of two warring factions!

Alex addressed the sentry. "I'm Major Bordon of His Majesty's Green Dragoons. I have an appointment to speak with General Washington. Here is his letter to verify that." He handed the note down to the private, who quickly read it.

General Washington, she thought. Melanie knew him. He'd worked with her father several times. She became excited. Maybe they were going to turn her over to his care.

"Ride up to the porch, Major. I'll meet you there and escort you to the General," requested the sentry as he handed the note back up to Bordon. Alex nodded his head regally, then rode with the others toward the large veranda of the house.

"General Washington will be with you in a few moments," said the young Colonial Private as he showed Major Bordon and Melanie Prescott through a doorway into a small room. Bordon scanned the room quickly, figuring that it had at one time been a bedroom, and was now furnished sparsely with a table and chairs, most likely for interrogations.

"Here is a chair for the lady," the Private said politely, pulling a chair from the corner of the room for her. Bordon took her elbow and steadied her as she sat down.

The private left the room, shutting the door behind him. There was an awkward silence between the two occupants left there.

Melanie broke the silence. "Why are we here?"

"To see General Washington," Bordon answered in a clipped tone.

Melanie spoke up quickly without thinking. "He worked with—"

"Your father," interrupted Bordon. "You know him. Yes, I realize that."

She sighed and looked down at her lap, folding her roped hands within it. "You seem to know everything about everyone," she commented in a resigned voice.

"It's my duty," answered the Major. "I'm an intelligence officer. I know most all the goings on in whatever area we are posted to."

Puzzled, Melanie wondered just why she was here with Bordon. She knew that as an officer, he probably had business with the Colonial leader. Why then, did she have to accompany him?

"Why am I here?" she asked the officer after summoning some courage.

"The General wanted to see you," Bordon replied.

"Oh," she said. She smiled inwardly, feeling good about seeing a familiar face again. Perhaps the English were going to leave her there with Washington.

"Would you please untie me so that I might make myself presentable to him?"

"No," Bordon said shortly.

"Why?"

"I cannot," answered the Major. "You are to be bound whenever you're away from the fort."

"But I can't run from here! You're with me," she protested. "The room is guarded!"

"I'm sorry, Miss. I have my orders."

Melanie shook her head in disbelief. Was she really expected to see General Washington bound up like a common prisoner?

"I can't go before the General in chains," she argued.

"The General has seen people bound before," reasoned Major Bordon, "and this won't be the last time. We are at war. It is a common sight."

Jumping to her feet in a panic, she pleaded, "Please don't make me stand before him in shackles. It's demeaning."

"I assure you that he won't think any less of you," insisted Bordon.

Melanie sat down with a disappointed sigh, fretting over the thought of being bound before George Washington, one of her father's friends. Would the General really understand her dilemma? Would he think she had gotten into some trouble? What would he think when he saw her shackled?

Before Melanie could speak again, Bordon moved to stand in front of her. He looked down menacingly at her. She looked up at him, feeling confused and afraid.

"A word of warning, Miss Prescott," he began in a low and serious voice, "The General may ask you some questions. You would be wise to answer them carefully."

"What do you mean?" Melanie asked, puzzled.

A look of threat covered the officer's face suddenly, furrowing his brow and drawing his lips tightly together. "I mean that you had better not try getting a message across to him in coded language, or disclose too much about your situation."

"I can't lie to the General," she demurred.

"I'm not asking you to do that," he said. "I'm telling you to watch how you answer him."

"How do I know what to answer?" Melanie queried.

"I'll tell you which questions you can or can not answer," explained Bordon. He leaned down closer to her. "If you disclose too much about your situation, you will have to be moved from the fort."

Bordon stood up again and took a couple of steps back from Melanie. "You have very nice accommodations, Miss Prescott- luckier than most. You could be moved to a guarded cabin, out in the western territory. You wouldn't have the luxuries out there that you have here. Things are a little scarce."

The Major walked to the wall, then turned back to face the girl. He crossed his arms in front of him and leaned back against it and looked her squarely in the face and continued with his threat.

"Or, it could be worse. You could be moved to a prison camp."

Melanie Prescott's head was spinning. She didn't want to suffer the indignity of being bound before the Colonial's most supreme leader. She had to watch how she answered her questions, and Major Bordon was threatening her.

Looking down at her bound hands and pondering the situation, she felt her eyes stinging. The girl held her breath in the silence of the room, trying to force back the tears. Soon, though, they began to fall as she cried at her desperateness.

Bordon watched her for a moment. He moved to her side, feeling pity on her. The officer knelt down in front of her.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled his handkerchief from it and handed it to her. "Don't cry," he soothed. "There's nothing to worry about. He only wants to see you and ask some questions—"

"That you won't let me answer," she sobbed.

"You may answer his questions...carefully," he warned in a soft voice.

Melanie handed the cloth back to the Major after she'd finished drying her eyes and wet cheeks. She watched as the officer tucked it back into his jacket.

When he was done, Alexander, still kneeling in front of her, looked up at the young woman. Just then, their eyes locked with each other. Their faces were very close.

Both were silent as each felt whirlwinds of feelings. Bordon felt a softness moving through his body and soul as he looked at her, as if she melted him. Melanie's gaze held a pleading—an unknown longing for something.

"Please untie me," she begged in a whisper, wanting to appeal to him, hoping kindness would overtake him. Yet, strangely, wanting more: wanting him to return the same look of pleading; maybe to kiss her. A tear ran from the corner of her eye and down her face.

Alex Bordon reached up to her cheek and brushed the tear away with his fingers. In a gentle voice, he answered her request simply. "I cannot."

In an instant, they heard footsteps outside the door and the door knob turn. Bordon quickly jumped to his feet, ready to meet whoever came through it.

A very tall man slid through the door, looking regal in his decorated blue uniform. He moved toward them and offered a nod of respect to the Dragoon commander.

"Major Bordon, I presume," he said with utmost manners and courtesy, showing himself as an upper class country gentleman.

"General Washington," Bordon acknowledged with a respectful nod of his head.

The colonial officer then turned to Melanie and bowed. He took her hand and kissed it as he greeted her. "Ah, Miss Prescott."

"General," she said. She smiled happily back at him.

Washington noted a look of relief on her face, as if she was happy to see someone she knew. He would remember this so that he could disclose it to his intelligence officers. Since the British sent the letter to Washington and requested only him, the man knew he'd have to glean as much information from the Major and Miss Prescott as he could. He was already watching their demeanors. Washington got the feeling he was dealing with a formidable foe, just from looking at Bordon and his "poker face" expression. He'd heard the rumors about "Brutal Bordon", and had his own intelligence officers' reports on the man as well.

"How long has it been," he asked the girl with sincerity.

"We last saw each other over a year ago, in Virginia," she said, her eyes sparkling.

The general went on. "Please, accept my condolences for your family. Your father is sorely missed by many. He was a good man."

"Thank you," she said, dropping her head down, trying to fight tears forming again in her eyes.

"I rejoiced when I heard you were alive!," Washington exclaimed. "I'm very glad to have the opportunity to see you."

Embarrassed, Melanie spoke up. "I apologize for my appearance, General," she said meekly. "It is humiliating to be brought before you in bindings." She held up her wrists for him to see, then rested them back in her lap. The girl looked down in shame.

Feeling for Miss Prescott, General Washington looked over at Major Bordon and tried to hide an accusing look. The Colonial officer opened his mouth to protest her treatment, but could not get the words out before Bordon interjected.

"All prisoners must be bound when outside our perimeters," Bordon stated in a disaffected manner. He chose his words carefully, not wanting to divulge that she was being held at a fort. Bordon reasoned that if Washington had good intelligence men, he probably already knew where she was being held. But why help him, Bordon thought. Let him figure it out on his own, or hopefully not be able to.

"It's orders, sir," Bordon continued, with no trace of apology within his voice.

Melanie lifted her eyes, staring blankly at the wall. She mulled Bordon's last words over in her mind. So, she was a prisoner.

The feeling of a large, warm hand gently touching her wrist brought her from her brooding. Raising her eyes, she met those of the General's. He smiled kindly at her.

"Being restrained does not afford one any dignity," he began, sounding so wise, "but might I say that you still carry yourself in a dignified manner, even though a bound prisoner. You have lost no credence in my eyes, Miss."

Melanie thanked him and smiled demurely up at him. Washington reached behind him and grabbed for the chair against the wall. He pulled it up and sat in front of Miss Prescott. Alex Bordon remained standing, as if to keep watch over the situation.

After a long silence, George Washington asked Melanie to tell her exactly what she could remember of the attack and her recovery. She recounted the story of her ordeal to the General, with Bordon filling in the holes of her memory, and stopping her when he thought she was about to say too much.

Washington sat casually and listened intently, his elbow on his thigh and his chin resting upon his hand. He sat quietly and did not interrupt the two of them as they spoke.

He listened carefully to their words, especially Melanie's, trying to discern any information she could be trying to get across to him, perhaps hidden between the lines, disguised in her phrases. Washington hoped that something subtle would be revealed—something that he could share with his intelligence unit.

When the two finished, there was a moment of silence in the room as Washington thought about what he'd just heard. He was filled with sorrow that her father and family were no longer alive, but glad that Hayden Prescott was not around to see his daughter at this moment—bound and being dangled in front of the Colonials as if flaunting the fact that she is in their possession.

Washington broke the silence. "How are they treating you," he asked her, all the while watching her reaction to the question. His eyes first looked to Melanie, then to Alex, watching them both carefully.

Melanie showed no sign of distress at the question. Instead, she looked up at Bordon, her eyes questioning him. Washington supposed that the Major was restricting her answers.

Bordon gave her an encouraging nod, knowing she had no reason to lie, for they had treated her well. Melanie drew in a breath, remembering Bordon's warning to be careful with her answers.

"I am fine, General, I assure you," she answered. "I have my own quarters. They provide well for me in warmth, food, and clothing. I am not made to work. I was rescued by them and taken care of."

She raised her bound wrists once again, displaying them for General Washington. "This is the worst of it," she said, then lowered her arms again. "Other than this, they have treated me well. I can't lie about that."

Washington wasn't sure what to think. His eyes darted quickly from Melanie, then to Alex. Bordon noticed the suspicious look and spoke up.

"I assure you, sir, that she does tell the truth," Bordon remarked. "You see no bruises on her face or body. She is not gaunt from starvation. She looks well, not ill."

Washington looked again at Miss Prescott's face. He could see the look of reassurance in her eyes. No, she wasn't being mistreated, except for being bound. The General smiled and sighed, silently assuring them that he believed what he was told.

After a short silence, General Washington spoke again. "Well, Major, might we discuss terms for her release?"

Bordon raised his eyebrows. "Release?" he questioned. "No, sir. We have her best interests at heart. We rescued her. We feel it's our duty to protect her."

Melanie noted that Bordon's tone of voice in answering the General's request was a strange mixture of respect for a ranking officer, yet mixed with haughtiness. There was also a slight air of taunting as well.

Washington stood up, as if to confront Alex. "Just as I feel it's my duty to see after her. I knew her father well. Therefore it would be fitting for me to make sure she's taken care of."

"She's well cared for in our custody," Bordon pointed out.

The General turned away from the two and held his breath. This British Major was going to put up a fight, he could tell. He figured it wouldn't be easy to get Miss Prescott back in Colonial hands; he thought he'd probably have to give up some high ranking redcoat officer to get her back.

General Washington did feel it his personal duty to get Melanie back onto 'his' side. Even though she came from a well known and pacifistic family, she might still be a powerful symbol to use to his advantage. He reasoned that she would be well used as propaganda against the British. After all, it was the redcoats' word alone and Miss Prescott remembered nothing of the attack. He could have doubt put into the colonists' minds by telling the newspapers that no one witnessed the attack and lived. It would strengthen his cause further and light a fire of revenge under the people, making them wonder if the British—not rebel extremists—were indeed the ones who attacked an innocent pacifist family.

The colonial leader turned back to Bordon. "I'm sure she is, Major," he placated. "But, what would it take to have her back? Wouldn't it be to your advantage to have one of your officers back in her place?"

"Yes," toyed Bordon, "but we are concerned for her welfare. I'm not so sure that she'd be safe in your care. After all, it was extremists of your militia that slaughtered her family."

Melanie remained seated, watching the two officers sparring back in forth. She held her breath and worried as they continued to debate. She was amazed at how well Bordon kept his emotions in check, and could tell that Washington was losing his composure. The girl had known that George Washington could sometimes have a bad temper.

"You strike a low blow Major," he said, his eyes flashing. "Please don't insult my intelligence any further. You care nothing for her well being. She's just a prize to you; another jewel in His Majesty's crown. She and the Prescott name are of value—if only symbolic."

"Touché," Bordon responded calmly. The corners of his lips curled into a slight smile of satisfaction. He had the upper hand and he knew it. He'd accomplished his mission.

Washington knew he'd been toyed with. But he'd tried. Even though he wanted to make sure she was protected and would rather have her back under a Colonial roof, she was only one person. All his efforts and time in this war could not be spent on a pacifist's daughter. There would be other opportunities to get at the British.

Defeated, General Washington regained his composure and made one last effort. "Well, if you won't turn her over to me, Major, would you consider paroling her to her relatives in Gettysburg? After all, her Uncle there is a farmer and has nothing to do with the fighting. I can assure you that she would get into no trouble up there."

"No," answered Bordon. "We feel she's better protected with us."

Washington said nothing back. The silence hung like a thick fog in the room. Melanie sat there, mute. Her thoughts and emotions buzzed inside her head. She was confused, not sure why the exchange had taken place, or what had just happened. It was as if the three were playing a game, but the men didn't bother explaining to her exactly how to play. She was the 'odd man out', trying desperately to follow along.

"Well, if you'll excuse us, Sir," said Bordon, "The men await us. I must get back to them."

"Certainly," conceded Washington. He watched as Bordon helped Melanie to her feet. As she stood, the General stepped over to her and took her bound hands in his. He brought them to his lips and kissed one of them cordially. Then the tall General bent his frame downwards, placed a hand gently on the back of her head, guiding her in a little closer to him, then kissed her head amidst her limp blonde waves. "Good bye, Miss Prescott."

Bordon stood by quietly as General Washington then took Melanie by the shoulders. He gave them a gentle squeeze and looked into her eyes, wanting to impart some fatherly advice. Melanie looked back at him intently. The girl tried desperately to show a subtle look of "please help me" in her eyes and face.

"Take care of yourself," said Washington in a quiet voice full of concern. "Always be watchful...and trust no one." With that, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Her eyes now registered fear, for the General's words had filled her with newfound apprehension for the British. His advice made her feel as if she could not even trust the men who'd saved her life and nursed her back to health.

Bordon bowed his head to the General and took Miss Prescott's arm. He led her out of the room and into the hallway. After a few steps, Melanie looked back over her shoulder to find General Washington watching her being led away.

"Good bye, General," she called back to him in a nervous voice. She wondered if she was a lamb being led to the slaughter. What was she in for?